


A Way With Wordes

by Veleste



Category: Discworld
Genre: Comedy, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-29
Updated: 2014-06-29
Packaged: 2018-02-06 17:13:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1865856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Veleste/pseuds/Veleste
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tired of William’s incessant whining, Otto enacts a plan to help him win back his lady love. It mostly goes according to plan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Way With Wordes

**Author's Note:**

> For me, writing romance does not come easily but I wanted to try something new. I have no idea if this reads ridiculous, annoying or adorable, so please don’t hesitate to let me know how you found it. I ended up watching a lot of old romantic comedies like What’s New Pussy Cat and My Fair Lady to get in the right mindset so you’ll see some inspiration from those. The poetry William and Sacharissa quote at each other is from the elegies of Propertius (more or less). I hope you enjoy!

        “Okay! Here ve go! Two more nice big frothy beers.” Otto pushed one of the split wooden tankards in front of William, sliding back into his seat as if he had never left. William, in his darker moments, resented Otto’s natural grace. He was a Lord - capital L - and he’d nearly gotten two broken ribs trying to shoulder through the crowd when he had bought his round. Otto never had that problem. He flowed between the men like water, and was always quick to get noticed at the bar. Even more insulting was the fact that despite having left his seat vacant for several minutes, not a single man had made a move to take it.

        “It’s not fair, Otto,” William sighed. Otto nodded along sympathetically. Their conversation had been trudging along in this vein for quite some time, eased by the continual downing of watery brown ale. 

        “I mean --” William paused to take a draft of ale. “I mean, what did I even do? Women, eh? Impossible.”

        “Vell, in her defense, it vas her birthday, Villiam.”

        “And in MY defense, Mister Hodgkins of number eight Ettercap Street had trapped three men in his basement, all of whom he accused of… well… trying to interfere with his daughter. The Watch had to be called. Constable Bluejohn ended up removing part of the street to help the men out.”

Otto continued nodding along, giving his beer a hesitant sniff.

        “It was  news , Otto. I had to report it. One of the men even turned out to be a woman and he still pressed for charges against  her .”

Otto made a sympathetic noise and carefully put the beer back down. “I seem to remember Freddy Scatter vas in the office. You haf been trainink him, yes? Very promisink young reporter you said.”

        “And when his daughter got home from work. Well. You should have been there, Otto. You would have gotten a picture you’d not forget in a hurry.” 

Otto hummed in response. Any second now…

William slumped over the table, burying his head in his arms. 

        “Zer, zer, Villiam,” Otto crooned, patting his arm. “Zere will be other vomen.”

        “I did it again, didn’t I? There was nothing wrong with Sophronia.”

        “No…” Otto said. “But perhaps she vas just not right for you. No shame in that.”

William looked up. “You think so?”

        “Oh yes. I zink you need a voman who does not require you to be in the zame room as her at any point. Vun who only requires you to write her letters vich may or may not contain vague and filthy promises.”

        “What you’re describing there is a penpal, Otto.”

        “Ah, yes. Ah-ha. So it iz.” Otto took a meaningful sip of his beer, and regretted it instantly.

William drained his mug and slammed it back down with force.

        “You know-- you know what I think?” William hiccuped “I think that the problem is -- that the problem is women, you know? You know what I mean?”

        “I can’t zay I do.”

        “Well of course you don’t!” William shouted, sitting up and waving a finger in Otto’s direction. “You’re a bloody - Oops, sorry, I mean damned - vampire. You ooze sophistication and charm. Women run at you in diaphanous dresses with heaving bosoms!” William slumped across the table again and groaned. Otto took the time to swap their mugs so that he was cradling the empty one.

        “It iz true, I haf a vay vit ze ladies,” Otto said. “But I zink that iz less to do vit me being vat I am and more to do vit the fact I actually pay attention to zem when zey are in ze room.” 

William noticed the beer mug in front of him, blinked in confusion, then started on it. William was an industrious little drinker when he let himself ‘cut loose’ but had yet to build up the tolerance which allowed him to drink two beers without behaving like he had drank two whiskeys.

        “I’m swearing off them.”

        “Vomen?” Otto asked.

        “Yes. Women,” William spat. “No more women for me. I’m living an aesthetic life from here on in. No wanton excesses.”

        “I believe you mean ascetic,” Otto said. “Not zat your life contained much vanton excess to begin vit.”

        “You know, it’d be so much easier if there were no women at all. If it was just us men. Things are simpler with men. I never had these kinds of problems back at the academy.”

And what was anyone supposed to say to  that?

        “No, I can’t imagine you did.” Otto tried. It was difficult to remain sympathetic with William when he was in the grip of such absurd self pity. Especially considering it was so blatantly obvious to everyone why he was in this situation to begin with. “Villiam, perhaps I am oversteppink but maybe you should just talk to Miss Sach --”

        “I mean what are they good for? Pfft. Men can cook, men can clean --”

Otto glanced around with a pained expression. If any of the women nearby heard him, William would soon learn that women could do a lot of things men could too. Like throw punches.

        “Vell, there are some who vould argue zey are necessary for ze propagation of ze species.”

        “Sex!” William roared, slamming down the mug. Otto noticed it was now empty. He also noticed they had attracted some attention from nearby patrons. “What is it good for, eh? What is it even good for?”

        “Releivink stress…” Otto said thoughtfully. “Vich I think you could do vit right about now.”

        “It’s a shame us men can’t have sex. Cut out the middle man, so to speak.”

Otto blinked once. Slowly.

        “I know what I said. Cut out the middle man. Talking about women. Doesn’t make sense. Let me rephrase --”

“Villiam, look at me.” Otto moved forward as if to place an elbow on the table, looked at its surface, then reconsidered. He reached out to place a cool hand on William’s arm. “Ve both know vat zis is really about now, don’t ve.”

William blinked at him. The drink was beginning to set in and his eyes were lacking focus. 

        “Do we?” 

        “Yes, vell I do anyvay. So ze next step to consider is vat ve are going to do about it, yes?”

        “Naturally,” William said, not following.

        “Okay! Great! Ve are on ze same page. Now, next question. Do you vant to do zis the easy way or ze hard way?” Otto grinned, his eyes sparkling with a ruby light. Considering he was a vampire, and his razor sharp smile alone was enough to send a grown man screaming for this hills, this unnerved William considerably.

        “Ehh… what do the easy way and the hard way entail?” William asked.

        “Ze easy vay involves me tellink you vat to do, ze hard vay involves me doing ze work.”

        “Um…” William stared at Otto. His thoughts were dripping like treacle through a very old, rusty sieve. Some distant self preservation instinct kicked in. “Easy,” he said at last. 

“Ah, shame.” Otto flashed him another grin which, if William had been able to see straight, he might have considered playful. “Right. First things first. Ve need to get the heck out of here and get you presentable.”

“Right!” William agreed, not liking where this was going but not seeing a way out now. 

“Come on zen. Hup hup. Let’s go.” Otto sprang to his feet, rounding the table and hauling William to his feet almost too fast for him to track.

“What do you mean go --” he started but already bodies were moving past him, parting like the Genuoshian sea. He looked down and realised his feet were moving. Then he looked up and realised Otto had him grasped by the wrist and was leading him towards the door. 

Thoughts oozed.

        “Wait. Where are we going?”

        “You vill zee soon enough.”

        “What are we going to do?”

        “Ve are going to talk to her.”

        “Talk to Sophronia?” William tried to tear his hand out of Otto’s grip but the man’s slender fingers were like iron bars.

        “Zophronia? Ha! No, of course not.”

Fresh air hit William, bringing forth a whole new wave of drunkenness. He swayed as they reached the sidewalk and Otto had to slip a hand around his waist to keep him upright.

        “My, ze beer seems to haf affected you much worse zan I anticipated. You come from a family of hard core brandy drinkers, Villiam, start acting like it.”

        “I only had… four…” William said, swaying again and nearly stumbling off the curb. He felt Otto pick him up around the waist as if he were a poorly positioned sack of flour, then he was back on the footpath with the vampire’s arm around his shoulders.

        “Try to valk in a straight line, please.”

        “Vere are we… Dammit… I mean  where  are we going, Otto?”

        “You shall see.”

Otto set a punishing pace, but since he was half being carried and couldn’t feel his legs anyway, William said nothing. At least until they turned onto the Street of Cunning Artificers. Then the roiling fog inside his head parted just enough to let the dark plop of an idea through.

        “OH NO YOU BLOODY DON’T!” He wriggled, succeeding only in getting half way over Otto’s shoulder before the vampire caught him by the scruff of the neck and set him back down.

        “You haf to talk to her. Ze vay you two are carrying on iz… iz… absurd!”

        “Not a hope! She’s made her decision!” William realised he was shouting and lowered his voice. 

        “Did you ever even give her ze choice?”

Otto had tried to poke him in the direction of conversation about Sacharissa several times since she had announced her engagement to Neddy Jessopoller - a polite, well intentioned lad, if a tad on the boring side - but William had an almost supernatural ability to suddenly turn the conversation to something new. Drunk, however, he had no such abilities  and began to pace up and down the mouth of an alley brandishing his index finger like a weapon.

“Marry Neddy. What an infantile idea. What a heartless, wicked, brainless thing to do! I can see her now, Mrs. Neddy Jessopoller, in a wretched little flat above an engravers,” William snarled, raking his hands through his hair with such vigour he tore a few strands out. “In a year, or so, when she's prematurely grey, and the blossom in her bosom has turned to chalk. She'll come home, and lo, he'll have upped and run away with a social-climbing heiress from Bonk! ”

        “Um, Villiam, I zink you are letting your imagination --”

William either didn’t hear him, or was ignoring him. Otto watched as he tottered about, grabbing hold of a nearby gaslight to right himself which unfortunately forced him to look down the street as far as the curve. Sacharissa lived with her father above their shop right at the apex of the curve. Though she earned enough income from her work at The Times to move them into roomier accommodations, or get rooms of her own, she had remained in that cramped flat he knew all too well. It smelled of wood shavings and drying ink, even years after the last wood was shaved and drop of ink dried.

        “I was my own man before we met.  A Lord’s son. Independant. Content. Surely I could always be that way again… no. Better! I’m a Lord in my own right now. I own a newspaper. I have money, status. I don’t need her.” He spat. “No, not at all. I mean, I’m a fine catch for any women.”

        “And yet…” Otto prodded. William’s face melted into a mask of complete self pity. His bottom lip wobbled. 

        “And yet…” He sighed, scrubbing a sleeve across his eyes.

        “Alright, Villiam. If only for my own sanity I vill help you vin her back.”

        “Win her back?” William scoffed. “Oh I don’t have to win her back. It’s only a matter of time before she’s banging on my door and begging me to take her back.”

“Are ve zinkink of ze zame Sacharissa?” Otto said slowly. “You know, chews ze iron, spits ze nails type lady?”

William was a million miles away, orbiting some other World Turtle. Otto caught a telltale shimmer brimming in his eyes and William collapsed in a heap against the wall of a boarded up storefront. He slid down slowly till he was sitting on the ground, staring off at something only he could see.

        “Oh dear,” Otto sighed and sat down on the ground next to him. “You haf got it bad my friend.”

        “Shut up,” William sobbed.

        “But I vunder, did you ever tell  her  how you feel. Hmm? Did you ever zay to her, ‘Sacharissa, your face is like the pale Ramtop moon,’ or ‘Sacharissa, hearing your voice makes ze day vorth vaking up for? Just vunce did you embrace her vit passion as if your very skin vas on fire and she vas ze only vater for miles?”

William blinked at him.

        “Zat’s vat I thought.”

William and Otto were silent for a long time, letting the warm night air swirl around them. At this time of night, few people walked the Street of Cunning Artificers. The few who did kept their head down and walked quickly, paying no attention to two drunks outside an old store.

        “Well,” William said at last, the cold from the cobbles finally seeping through his britches. “There’s nothing I can do about it now. She’s going to marry boring, plain, attentative,  Neddy .”

        “But,” Otto said, grinning his sabre-toothed grin. “She’s not married to him  yet . You are going to vin her back, my friend by doing ze vun thing she vuld never expect you to do.”

        “What?”

        “Tell her ze truth.”

Otto surged to his feet in one graceful motion. Before William even realised what was happening, he was on his feet with Otto brushing the grime off his trousers. William’s brain struggled to keep up. He could feel sobriety creeping slowly back, but it was very slow indeed.

        “What’s the truth?” William asked.

        “You’ll see,” Otto said, manhandling him down the street till he reached a familiar building with peeling green paint and an old, faded, hand-engraved sign out the front.

MISTER R.J CRIPSLOCK.

GUILD OF ENGRAVERS

        “Alright. Ready, Villiam?” Otto was grinning like a madman, excitement dancing in his eyes.

        “No,” William hissed. “What do you want me to say to her?”

        “Speak from ze heart. Tell her how you feel. Ask her to run avay vit you.”

        “I can’t run away with anybody, I have a newspaper to run.”

        “Oh ye gods. You are hopeless. Maybe you deserve to be alone.” Otto shoved him back out onto the street. “Stand right zere, and try to look dashing!”

        “Dashing?” William asked then immediately began straightening his clothes and hair. “How do I look?”

        “Awful. But it iz dark. She vill never notice. Ready?”

        “No!”

        “Oh vell,” Otto picked up a rock from the street and threw it. It sailed up to the small, round window William knew looked down on Sacharissa’s narrow cot. Otto threw him a thumbs up and stepped back into the shadow of the doorway.

William waited for a light to flicker to life. It didn’t.

        “What do I do now?” He hissed.

        “Throw another rock up. Do I haf to zink of everythink?”

William looked about for a likely pebble, and picked up a chip of cobble. He threw it as hard as he could, but it clattered harmlessly between two windows on the second floor. William looked at Otto helplessly.

        “This was your idea,” he hissed when Otto grumbled, but the vampire ignored him. Otto selected another small pebble and threw it against the window. It hit the centre pane with a soft ‘tink’.

More nothing followed.

        “Maybe she isn’t home…” William said, swaying where he stood. “This was a stupid idea Otto. I bet she’s with dull, beige,  Neddy .”

Otto selected a small handful of stones.

        “Gods, you don’t think she’s actually with Neddy, do you?” William continued, beginning to tug at his hair again. “Oh gods, the thought of him putting his hands on those perfect, pillowy --”

Otto threw one of the rocks.

_Tink._

        “I’ll kill him. That’s what I’ll do. I’ll challenge him to a duel. If I challenge him to a duel it isn’t illegal.”

        “No,” Otto muttered under his breath. “But Sacharissa might kill you.” 

_Tink._

        “Ha! I’ll duel him outside the city! Old Sam won’t be able to interfere then! I’ll run him through with a sabre and --”

Otto had mixed feelings on sabres. Especially when it came to sabres and De Worde’s, so he continued ignoring him. 

All he was trying to do was help William but the man was impossible. He had barely paid attention to Sacharissa when they were ‘walking out’ together, so wrapped up in the aftermath of his father’s mess and the rise of the press. Then when Sacharissa had started seeing Neddy he had treated it like a contest and paraded high society woman after high society woman through the office like some kind of taffeta parade.

Did William love Sacharissa? One only had to listen to the way his heart skipped out a little ‘dahduh dahduh’ whenever she walked by to know he did. Did she feel the same way about him? Her heart was harder to hear through the corset but the way her blood rushed to her cheeks every time she saw him indicated… well  something  didn’t it?

        “Oh vould you shut up!” He snapped, throwing a third rock without looking.

_Crrk. Ksssh._

They both looked up at the window and froze. A small hole had appeared in the middle frame.

        “Oh shi--” 

A light sputtered to life inside the house and the window swung open to reveal a furious Sacharissa with her hair piled up in rollers. William looked around for Otto but he had vanished.

        “Who’s down there!” Sacharissa called. “You better pay for this window or I’ll have the old Sam on you --”

William stared up at her, his mind blanking and his limbs freezing in place.

        “Zay something!” Otto hissed and William located him in the shelter of the doorway.

        “Like what?” He hissed back.

        “I don’t know, anythink!”

        “I say! Who is that? I can see you, you know!” Sacharissa bellowed. She had a pair of lungs on her that would put a fire and brimstone preacher to shame.

        “Sacharissa!” William yelled. Her name was a good a place to start as any. “I’ve come to tell you…” He trailed off. Panic was making its chilly way from his chest towards his bladder.

        “What? Tell me what? Who is that?”

        “Sacharissa!” He tried again, but his throat was tightening. Terror drying out his mouth.

        “Zay something about how pretty she iz. Girls like that!” Otto hissed encouragingly. He was too deep in shadows for William to see the fact he was also silently laughing.

        “Sacharissa!” He tried again, his mind racing. He had to say something!

        “I damn well know who I am, now are you going to say something other than my name or am I going to have to come down there?”

        “Your face!” He yelled, trying to be heard above her. “Your face is like the pale Ramtop moon!”

        “What? What did you say?”

        “I said, your face is like the pale Ramtop moon?” He said again hopefully. He looked at Otto for help but the vampire had covered his face with his hands.

        “What did you say about my face?”

        “I SAID IT’S LIKE THE PALE RAMTOP MOON! ARE YOU DEAF?” He roared. Lights flicked on all around them, a few other windows opened. Otto was nowhere to be seen.

        “What’s going on down there?” An old woman’s voice called from a window above a dwarven smithy.

        “This young man here’s trying to recite poetry to the deaf lady,” a dwarf from below called up, emerging from the shop in his work clothes. “Would you not just knock on the door laddie, and talk to her moon-like face?”

        “Go back inside, Sir! This doesn’t concern you!” William wailed.

        “Is that you Mister Tordekson? What’s going on down there?” A balding, bespectacled man was leaning out of a first floor window, three shops down. The previously deserted street was now full of activity.

Oh gods , William thought.  I’ve gone and made myself news.

        “Nevermind! Wrong house!” William called and turned to hurry back down the street. To his horror, two guardsmen were sauntering down the street towards him. One fat and one short.

He turned back around and came face to face with Sacharissa.

        “William? What are you doing?” She folded her arms under her chest, the thin material of her chiffon nightgown straining. William barely noticed. He couldn’t quite tear his gaze away from her eyes. “Look. Just come inside before you cause more of a scene.”

        “Um… I don’t want to wake your father.”

        “So you screamed at my window?” She asked, raising an eyebrow. William conceded defeat and followed her up into the house. He couldn’t be sure, but he thought that someone from a doorway across the street was giving him an encouraging thumbs up.

  
Inside it was just as cramped as he remembered. Sacharissa had purchased a few bits of newer furniture, and tried to spruce things up with new curtains, rugs and throws, but it smelled the same. William had always hated the smell when he visited before, but now he found it oddly comforting.

        “Coffee?” She asked but without waiting for an answer had disappeared upstairs to the second floor which he knew contained a kitchen. Sobriety was coming fast, the terror having flushed most of the drunkenness back into the ether. He wished it hadn’t. Maybe then he wouldn’t feel so foolish.

William sat in silence while Sacharissa busied herself in the kitchen, still trying to trace the events from the pub to here. He remembered sitting on the floor…

        “Here you go.” A cup was slammed down in front of him, the hot liquid sloshing over the side.

        “Aren’t you having any?” William asked, looking up at her as she moved to lounge against a counter.

        “It’s almost two am. I intend on going back to bed once I’ve figured out why you’re here. Why are you here, William?” He could almost see the phantom notebook, hear the phantom pencil scritching along.

        “Uh, no reason. I should actually really rather be going. 2am, gosh. Lost track of time. Have to be up for work in four hours. Busy, busy.” He started to rise.

        “Sit down!” 

His buttocks hit the chair so fast there was a delay in the sound of it.

        “What exactly was it you were screeching at me anyway? Did you say my face was like the Ramtop moon?”

        “Pale Ramtop moon, yes,” William muttered, raising his coffee cup to hide his face.

        “And what exactly is that supposed to mean?”

William opened his mouth then shut it again. He stared at the coffee for a while, watching the steam rise. “I suppose, it’s supposed to mean… you’re… I guess… luminous?”

        “Luminous?” Sacharissa said, scowling. “Like… a gas lamp?”

        “Well, no… like… you know…” William mumbled. Oh gods, what had Otto gotten him into.

        “No I don’t know, William. Use your words.”

        “Oh how can you be so unfeeling?” William snapped. “Can’t you see I’m suffering?”

        “You?” Sacharissa laughed, more out of surprise than anything else. 

        “Yes me. Look, I’m sorry I bothered you. I’ll just go now.”

        “Safe journey,” Sacharissa said sweetly, smiling at him in a way even more terrifying than Otto’s had been. William stood and jogged down the stairs. When he reached the front door he paused, his hand hovering over the handle. After a few moments of furious deliberation he turned around and jogged back up the stairs.

        “Wait, is that it? You’re just going to let me go?”

Sacharissa hadn’t moved from her spot. She remained leaning against the counter with her arms folded and her robe tightly tied at the waist.

        “I mean, I come here in the middle of the night, yelling about the moon and you make me coffee and tell me ‘safe journey’? I mean, where’s your sense of drama?” 

        “What was I meant to say? I hope you trip down the stairs and break every bone on the way?” She asked with a crook of her eyebrow. 

        “No,” William said, feeling himself sinking deeper and deeper into the metaphorical mud. Oh well, in for a penny, in for a pound. “You’re meant to say, ‘don’t go William, stay here with me.’”

        “Was that squeaky voice meant to be me?” Sacharissa asked and William found himself unable to meet her gaze.

        “How can you be so cool when a man in a state of grievous intoxication just shows up on your doorstep? I could ruin your reputation you know.”

        “I should be so lucky,” she sighed. “If anything, round these parts a visit from Lord De Worde would improve my reputation.”

        “Don’t call me that…” William mumbled, feeling his cheeks burning. What had he been thinking?

        “Why? What are you going to do. Ruin me?” She asked. “Ravish me here on this table.”

        “Maybe,” William said but it sounded sullen even to him.

        “Oh ho. So you think I’m some guttersnipe you can pick up and drop as the whim takes you? Your very own common born punching bag?”

        “Punching bag?” William exploded. “ You infamous creature, how dare you accuse me of such a thing! It is you who have hit me! You have wounded me to the heart!” He slammed his fists against his chest for emphasis, but Sacharissa remained unmoved, staring at him as if he were some kind of oddity she found in a glass jar at an alchemist's shop. He wished she’d scowl or laugh or  something .

        “Well, how awful of me,” she said.

        “Dammit, Sacharissa! I was a fool to come here. I prefer to say nothing more tonight. Good night.”

        “Safe home,” she said again and William felt his already fragile control slipping. He was halfway down the stairs when he stopped, turned and surged back up them. Striding across the kitchen he seized Sacharissa by the arms and hauled her against him. He felt her lips brush his, a feather light touch that melted something within his chest, a second before her knee connected solidly against his fork.

William crumpled, tears springing to his eyes. Though he knew Otto wasn’t in the room, he could have sworn he heard a quiet;  ‘Oof, right in ze fruits.’

        “What an ass you are!” Sacharissa snapped, finally losing her cool. “I’m engaged to be married. You can’t just go around kissing spoken-for-women! What did you think was going to happen? You’d come here, waltz in, do your lordly mating display and I’d just drop my drawers for you?”

        “No --” he wheezed. But what had he expected really? 

        “Oh you are just… you are unbelievable. I’ve watched you parade your women all through the shop like they were prize game birds and not said a damned word. Now you have the audacity - the temerity! - to come here and call  me  cruel? To tell  me  that  _I’ve_  wounded  _you_ ?” 

William opened his mouth but all that came out was a ‘nnnngh’ as he cradled his groin.

        “Tell me something,  Lord De Worde ,” she snarled. “If I hadn’t said yes to Neddy last week, would you even be here? Do you think I said yes out of some coquettish desire to attract you? Well if so, I have news for you,  my Lord. ”

William, with tears beaded at the corners of his eyes, struggled to his feet.

        “What do you want me to do?” He gasped. “Beg? Apologise?”

“Oh bugger you. I know I’m a  common, ignorant  girl from Small Gods, and you a book-learned  gentleman  who lives up on the Ankh side with a string of eligible young heiresses just lining up to dangle from your arm, but I’m not dirt under your feet.”

For the first time, William noticed a glisten of moisture in Sacharissa’s eyes. Something of his discovery must have shown on his face because she turned away sharply and scrubbed at her eyes with a sleeve.

        “Oh get out you fool,” she snapped. “I don’t want you here. I won’t be your sloppy seconds.”

“Sloppy seconds? Sacharissa--”

“I said get out!” She whirled on him, raising a plate from the sink as if it were a deadly weapon. William instinctively fell into that knock-knee’d crouch all men learn to adopt in the presence of furious women. Sacharissa shook her head and turned her back on him. He crept forward hesitantly, placing a hand on her shoulder. She shrugged him off. 

“Do you love Neddy?” He asked.

Sacharissa whirled on him again.

        “What kind of thing is that to ask?”

“Sacharissa,” he said again, holding out a hand. “Words are my business. I’ve lived off them and found comfort in them my whole life, but I find, when I’m with you, words start to fail me. I don’t know what to say to you. I don’t know what it is you want me to do but if you just asked me, I’d do it. I swear --”

“What kind of thing is that to say to a girl?” Sacharissa cried, lowering the plate.

“I don’t know…” The two of them lapsed into silence. They just stared at each other, Sacharissa standing with her robe wrapped tightly and William in a half crouch. The tension snapped, and they both burst out laughing.

“The pale ramtop moon.” Sacharissa snorted, her hands flying to cover her face.

“Two watchmen came round the corner, you know. If you had told them I broke your window, I’d have been carted off. Imagine the glee on the Commanders face in the morning.” William was overcome by giggles, sinking to the floor. Sacharissa joined him, placing her back against a cupboard.

“Did you yell at Mister Tordekson? Oh William, what were you thinking?”

“What was I thinking?” He said softly, shifting himself so he sat beside her. “I was thinking, if she wouldn’t beat me over the head with it, I’d write her books of poetry.”

Sacharissa scoffed, pushing him away.

        “No really. I’d write you elegies.”

        “Elegies are funeral poems.”

        “Well I’d write you happy ones. Full of beautiful things. I’d write you terrible ones too, ones you’d have to hide from your father.”

        “Oh really? I’d like to hear one of those.”

William took up one of her hands, smiling at her though he couldn’t quite meet her eyes.

“ _Oh my happiness!  Oh dazzling night!_ ”

Sacharissa snorted again, mumbling something which sounded suspiciously like ‘pale ramtop moon’.

“Hush and listen,” William snapped.

“Forgive me, m’lord,” she teased and he felt the blood rushing to his face. William surged forward, grabbing one slender wrist gently as he firmly pushed her to the ground with the press of his body.  Sacharissa was stunned into silence, her mouth hanging open and eyes wide.

“ _How long my kisses would linger on your lips,_ ” he whispered, finding his voice untrustworthy. Beneath him he could feel her bosom, soft and warm against his chest. “ _And more --_ If passion carries me away so far, then you will show your father your kiss bruised limbs. ”

Blood rushed to Sacharissa’s cheeks. William’s blood rushed other places.

“William” She gasped, but her eyes were inviting and he felt himself drawn inexorably closer.

“ _While fate permits us, let us sate our eyes with love: the long night with no dawn is drawing near. He errs, who seeks to set a term to furious love: true love does not know any boundaries._ ”

With every word he inched closer until finally he felt the soft brush of her lips against him. He tensed, waiting for another swift kick to the groin but to his surprise and subsequent delight, Sacharissa arched into him. Her mouth opened beneath his drawing a needy groan from his throat. Faintly, somewhere outside, William heard a ‘ _YES!’_

When they finally broke apart, they lay panting atop each other, the tips of their noses still touching.

        “What are you doing? Kissing me? I’m a spoken for woman!” Sacharissa said primly, but the effect was ruined somewhat when William opened his eyes and saw the blush on her cheeks and the fact her robe gaped open to reveal a heaving chest under straining lace. 

“You’re still an idiot,” she continued. “Any old fool can drunkenly yell at windows and recite Prosaggyus. I can bend him too to my will if I so choose.  _‘So! At last another’s scorn restores you to my bed, after she threw you out and slammed the door! For where have you spent the long hours of night, that should have been mine -- to come here now, worn out, when the stars are fading? Oh if only you had to endure such nights as you always inflict on me, cruel man, unhappy girl that I am!’_ ”

“Don’t marry Neddy,” William said. Sacharissa hit him on the chest with a balled up hand but it was a feeble attempt at protest.

“I like Neddy,” she hissed.

“Everyone likes Neddy. In order for him to be disliked he’d  have to have discernible characteristics.” 

Sacharissa hit him again with a tiny fist, but it lacked any power or meaning.

        “He tells me I’m beautiful.”

        “You are beautiful.”

        “He compliments my writing.”

        “That’s because it’s wonderful.”

        “He wants to marry me.”

        “I want to marry you.”

That hung in the air between them like a heavy cloister bell.

        “Well, I mean… someday…” William began. This time, when Sacharissa hit him, there was power behind it. It caught him right in the solar plexus and shoved him off her. She was on her feet and striding towards the stairs before he had even rolled back onto his back.

        “You’re like a child who wants a toy because another boy is playing with it! Get out of here, William!”

        “I’d give you anything!”

        “Give me peace!”

Lying on the floor, dishevelled, dirty and despairing, William De Worde didn’t look like a lord. He looked like a boy. A little lost, a little confused, and very desperate.

“Alright William, one question before I throw you out! Why didn’t you say anything before?”

William cast about for something to say but every braincell seemed engaged in appreciating the sight before him. She was resplendent in her nightgown, with her dark hair in disarray and her fury painted in red blotches across her cheeks and chest. He settled for the truth.

        “Because I was afraid.”

        “Of me?” She demanded.

        “Of losing you. I thought having you as a friend was better than not having you at all.”

Sacharissa’s fury faded away, her hands fluttering to her stomach where she twisted the ties of her nightgown. 

        “Otto made me see that it was never supposed to be my choice, it was meant to be yours. If you love Neddy, I’ll walk away but I had to try. I had to. Because at the end of the day I don’t want you going home to someone else. I don’t want you sharing all those little moments with some other man. You should be coming home with me. Those moments should be shared with me. You should be Lady De Worde, as formidable and wonderful as any of those vainglorious socialites I’ve been trying to fill the Sacharissa shaped hole in my heart with.”

Now that he had started, the words came tumbling out. William struggled to his feet, feeling the desperation of his situation dogging his heels.

“I love you! Dammit I don’t know how else to say it! I love you Sacharissa Cripslock. I have for ages. Long before inoffensive Neddy came along. I dream about you at night and think about you during the day. You’re the best part of coming into the office and I love you. Even if you scare me sometimes. There. I’ve said it and now I can’t seem to stop. I love you, love you, dammit, love you and that’s the truth! If that’s not enough I don’t know what is.”

Sacharissa just stared at him.

        “And Neddy?” She asked.

        “Honestly? Him I’m not keen on.”

        “You know that’s not what I meant. What do you suggest I do about Neddy?”

William thought for a moment. “We could print a retraction I suppose? Though, then how long is an appropriate amount of time before we make our announcement?”

        “ Our  announcement?” Sacharissa asked.

William blinked. “Well, yes… our… engagement?” Now that he thought about it, he hadn’t expressly asked, and she certainly hadn’t said yes.

        “William, I…” Sacharissa had gone bright pink. “Well… I’m flattered.”

        “Flattered,” he repeated, blinking uncomprehendingly at her. “Wait, are you not breaking it off with Neddy?”

        “Oh, I think I have to. I think rolling around on a kitchen floor with another man is a pretty clear indication that Neddy and I aren’t meant to be. I think I suspected before now, but the moment I opened my window and saw you… I knew.”

Sacharissa stepped forward and took his face gently in her hands. She placed a kiss on his cheek. William gaped at her like a fish, his brow furrowing.

        “But… I don’t underst… I love you!”

        “Yes, you said, and I’m glad you did, but I can’t be engaged to two men at once. I have to think about things, and talk to Neddy. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not a no --”

        “So it’s a  maybe ?” He asked, still gaping, but Sacharissa was already gently and firmly leading him towards down the stairs towards the front door.

        “Yes. Definitely a maybe. Goodnight, William, I’ll see you in the morning.”

        “Goodnight?” Somehow, he had lost control of the situation. Was what was happening good or bad? She was breaking up with Neddy, right?  “Well… can I at least get a goodnight kiss?” 

Sacharissa folded her arms. For a moment he thought she’d say no, then she smiled and stepped forward, placing a shy kiss against his lips. William, emboldened by the fact she hadn’t expressly said no, wrapped his arms around her. Sacharissa melted against him, kissing him back in a manner which made the world go soft and fuzzy in a way his anatomy was not.

Empires rose and fell. Stars burst into life then died away to embers. Mighty World Turtles crossed vast, empty oceans of space. Then his back hit the front door, and Sacharissa was retreating. They both remained still, catching their breath and allowing their hearts to return to a normal human pace.

        “Sach--” William began but she was already stepping forward again. William reached out towards her, intending on delivering on the afore promised ravishing, but then Sacharissa was reaching behind him and he heard the click of the lock.

        “I’ll see you in work,” she said, giving him a gentle push back through the door. Then she shut it firmly in his face.

William stood staring at it till his heart had stopped hammering in his chest. Behind him, there was a polite clearing of the throat. He turned.

It was a small crowd, as crowds went in Ankh-Morpork. Fifteen people at the most, and most of them dwarves. Somewhere in the back of the crowd William could hear the jingle of coins and he caught the scent of greasy sausages.

        “Well?” A Dwarf out front demanded. “Did you win her back or didn’t you?”

        “I’m not sure…” said William, staring at him. What the devil were they all doing gathered around the door? They hadn’t waited all this time, had they? Gods forbid they actually heard what was going on inside. Was there a window open? “I think it went well.”

        “Well what did you say to her?” An old woman who had brought out a stool for the occasion peered at him through thick magnifiers. “I hope you came up with something better than ‘pale ramtop moon’?”

        “Oh aye, you’d never woo a Dwarf that way,” agreed the Dwarf.

        “She’s not a dwarf!” The old lady snapped. “She’s a nice young lady.”

The Dwarf held up his hands in surrender, then they all turned back to William.

        “Well, I, uh. I think I asked her to marry me.”

This was the kind of news the crowd wanted to here. An excited murmur rippled through, with one or two ragged cheers from the back.

        “You think you asked her?” The Dwarf said. “You have to be sure about them things. Did you or didn’t you?”

        “And what did she say young man?” The old lady demanded.

        “Well… uh… maybe.”

        “Maybe?” The Dwarf said, his moustaches drooping in disappointment. “What kinda an answer is that?”

Discussions broke out in the crowd and Wiliam finally spotted Otto in the back. Somehow, the vampire had gotten his hands on an iconograph and was already fiddling with the controls behind the box. He bent at the waist, placing the black curtain of the iconograph over his head and held up a hand with three fingers extended. Seeing the familiar sight brought William back to his senses, and Lord De Worde of The Times took control of his brain.

        “Of course, when she makes up her mind I will of course be placing an announcement in The Times.”

_Three._

        “How long you reckon she’ll take?” The Dwarf asked. William smiled.

_Two_

        “Oh, just keep an eye out for an announcement of the impending nuptials of Lord De Worde.”  Impending . That sounded optimistic. 

_One._

The crowd brightened again. A Lord! In love with a lady from Small Gods! And she said  maybe ! Well… now that was  news .

_*FLASH*_

        “OW! DAMMIT! OWW!”


End file.
